The Thistles of Rose

1 • Vengeful

3 months later

♕ Rose ♕

I light the match. Fiery sparks dance in the dark. A bonfire blazes across the fear-stricken features of the plump man doused in oil. The chair scrapes back when he thrashes against the ropes, desperate to save his pathetic life from the thin strip of burning wood in my hand.

"I'm not going to ask you again," I sigh with boredom and then lace my voice with venom, "where the fuck is he?"

"I-I don't know," he stutters, pitifully, and cries while he shakes his head.

"Uh-oh," I hear Marco sigh, "the Sexy Slayer don't like that answer."

I gently blow out the burnt-out match and throw it at him. Marco shrieks, quickly dodging out the way. He came up with that name for me because according to him, no one looks as hot as you do when they're killing someone.

"My patience is very quickly starting to wear out," I lean the man's chair back on two legs and sinisterly smile at him, "and you don't wanna see what happens when it fucking does."

"I promise I don't know where he is," he cries desperately, "just please, let me go before Mr Armani gets here."

A laugh bubbles out of me. It rattles the cage of my dead heart and jostles to a sociopath's melody.

"It's not Luca Armani you should be fearing," I make him stare straight into my cold, dead eyes and whisper sinisterly, "it's me."

In one swift movement, I grab the gun from my thigh holster and press it right into his lower stomach. He groans, painfully, and the chair jerks as he tries to free his hands.

"Give me one reason why I should let you live," I snarl, annoyed. He doesn't give me any fucking information, I've doused him in oil and held a match right next to him and he's still not scared of me.

"Please, I-I I have a family," he begs, sobbing loudly and I click the safety off, silencing his aggravating cries immediately.

"I was about to," I grit my teeth and wait for the crack in my voice but it doesn't come. I wait for the tears to prick my eyes but they don't come. Irritated, I pull the trigger. Then, instantly light a match and throw it on his oil-drenched body.

Swivelling on my heels, I leave his burning body in the back as the echo of his screams bounces off the warehouse walls. Marco walks beside me as we both leave the blazing bastard to die a painful death.

To all my victims, I'd shoot them in the stomach, as I was shot, and then, I'd douse them in oil so they'd painfully burn alive. Nothing can amount to the plethora of pain I went through and I read that being burnt alive is the second most painful thing a human can experience, childbirth being the first.

It was either that or cut open their stomach, as what also happened to me, but that would ruin the new $400 black, suede boots I got for this so I decided against it.

"That idiot had some lungs on him. My ears are fucking ringing," Marco complains, rubbing his ears as I wait for him to exit so we can shut the door.

"He has lungs on him?" I raise an accusing eyebrow at Marco, "do I need to remind you of what happened on Tuesday?"

"Hey," he scolds, pointing a finger at me, "paper cuts are painful."

I roll my eyes at him and turn to the big, blue, steel door. We both pull each of the two closed and Marco clips the metal chain on them. I turn my head to the opposite side so Marco can't see and use my hair to shield my face as I wince from the wound on my stomach. It doesn't ache as much as it did at the start but it still pains me.